


Cafe

by ToxicPineapple



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Conversations, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Late Night Conversations, Light Angst, Platonic Relationships, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 06:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20187715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple
Summary: "No, no, I..." Naegi yawns. "It's okay. I'm awake now, anyway, so..." He pauses, then continues. "Hey, did you want to talk over the phone?""Huh?" Hajime furrows his brow. "I mean... I guess I don't have a preference? Why?""Well, there's this cafe near our school that's open twenty four hours... if you want, we could meet up there. I can text you the address." Hajime doesn't know if leaving the house right now is a good idea, but the thought of going and meeting up with Naegi is tempting.---Hajime has a bit of a relapse and calls Makoto on a limb. It works out nicely.





	Cafe

Hajime sighs and leans forward in his desk chair, resting his chin on the backs of his hands and gazing out the window at the night sky. It's late and he shouldn't even be awake right now but at the moment he finds himself reluctant to stand up.

Ordinarily he'd be on his phone, trying to distract himself, but going onto social media means looking at all those pictures of his friends having fun. They're all so happy to be on summer vacation and Hajime would be lying if he said he wasn't at least slightly but there are parts of him wish he _was _back at Hope's Peak Academy. It's not a big problem during the school year because he has to consistently get up every morning at the same time for class and it distracts his mind moving around like that, but summer days tend to blur together and he gets lost without the school work to keep him busy.

It's so easy to forget about all the bad things when he's occupied by something else. When he's got something more important to focus on. Hajime flicks his thumbnail against the pad of his index finger, eyelashes fluttering with fatigue but not quite closing, as much as he'd like them to.

On nights like this, when he feels like he's falling steadily into a relapse, he usually texts Chiaki or Nagito, because they can understand and will always lend a listening ear, but Chiaki disappeared mid-conversation a couple hours ago (which leads Hajime to believe that she's fallen asleep) and Nagito is on vacation in America. Has been for the past few weeks. It's probably the middle of the day for him, which means he's probably busy. Hajime just doesn't want to be a bother, that's all. Not when Nagito is likely doing a lot of things that he likes.

And it's silly because he knows both of them will pick up the phone no matter when he calls, or whatever the circumstances are. If he needs them, they'll be there. They want him to call, in fact. But it still feels like imposing every time he so much as lifts a finger. It feels like sticking a toe over a boundary that doesn't exist in the first place. Chiaki never asks anybody for help, (because she rarely seems to need it) and Nagito is even worse about it than Hajime is, so it always just feels selfish, asking them to listen, when they never ask the same.

So instead he stares at the sky, which is clear and has been for the past few nights. Not that he's been awake for all of them. This is the first time he's really slowed down enough to let the depression settle back in again. But even though there isn't a single cloud present, it seems the sky is empty of stars. Light pollution.

Slipping his phone into his pocket, Hajime gets to his feet and walks over to his bed. He's not appropriately dressed to go outside- just in a tank top and sweat pants, which is his usual sleeping attire. It doesn't seem to be that cold out, though, so he simply grabs a sweater from his nightstand and then exits his room, flicking off the light.

Instead of heading to the patio, as he'd like to do, he pads quietly down the hall and over to the balcony. It's ridiculous that he's trying to be so quiet, because his parents aren't even home home (they're on a business trip and have been longer than Nagito's been in America) but he feels as though making loud noises right now would only serve to frighten him.

As soon as he's out on the porch, Hajime is hit with a gust of cool wind and he tucks the sweater tighter around his body. The sweltering heat of summertime really only relents at night, when there's no sun to warm his skin. He's glad for the sweater now, because while it certainly isn't particularly cold the sudden change in temperature would definitely leave him shivering without it.

Hajime inches his way to the edge of the balcony and leans against the railing, staring down at the street below. Oh, he isn't going to jump. He lacks the desire and perhaps the energy to end his life right now. (Besides, there's too much for him to live for.) But he craves the feeling of the chilly, metal railing pressing into the skin on his forearms. He hopes that it will be enough to make him feel real again.

He should talk to somebody. He's familiar enough with his own mind to be aware of the fact. Stewing in his depression is all good and well, and sometimes sharing it with others is a horrible idea, but right now he knows that what he needs is company; another voice to break him out of this feeling. And he's not going to get that from the night sky.

As previously hinted at, Nagito and Chiaki are out of the question. In fact Hajime doubts that talking to anybody else in his class is actually going to help him. He's exhausted the list of his classmates who he trusts to talk about depression in a way that doesn't make him feel disgusting and alien. It isn't as though they don't care. They care often too much, and several of his classmates even struggle in similar ways. It just isn't easy to talk about it with people who respond in all the wrong ways, even with the best of intentions.

Regardless, Hajime pulls his phone from his pocket and puts in his code, blinking tiredly as his homescreen appears. He selects the contact icon and chews a piece of skin off his bottom lip. There are almost two hundred names listed in his contacts. Surely, there's someone there who he would be able to confide in. But it just isn't that easy. His parents are busy, and even if they weren't, they don't understand depression and they never have. His therapist is a good idea, probably the best one, but he doesn't have Miaya's number and even if he did he doubts that two in the morning would be an appropriate time to call her.

He's already ruled out his classmates. Obviously Chiaki and Nagito are out of the question. There are a number of other people he could consider calling (his old friends from the reserve course come to mind, though they haven't talked much since the experiment- whether out of spite or pity Hajime can't really tell) but in the end he rules them out too because it just feels weird to call them out of the blue after more than a year of no contact at all.

That leaves distant friends from old schools who he didn't like and didn't like him, or...

His thumb stops at the M section of his contact list, hovering over Makoto Naegi's name. Hajime isn't sure why this gives him pause. Not only is Naegi an underclassman, which makes it unprofessional to call him and ask for help, but... also, he's pretty sure that Naegi has never dealt with depression before, and he probably wouldn't know how to handle it.

But nonetheless... Hajime has talked to the guy before, and even when Naegi doesn't entirely understand the problem, he's usually a good listener, and he cares about everyone even without trying to. Not only that, but he and Hajime have come to an understanding of sorts. They're surprisingly similar, and for some reason that makes Hajime want to call.

Maybe not to talk about his depression, necessarily, but just talking for a while sounds nice right now.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Hajime presses the call button and puts the phone to his ear. He counts the rings in his head, wondering if Naegi is even awake at this hour.

One... two... three...

"Hello?" Naegi pics up just as the fourth ring begins to sound, his voice thick with sleep. Hajime feels a surge of guilt.

"Hi, Naegi, did I wake you up?"

Naegi makes a sound of surprise in the back of his throat, as though he wasn't expecting it to be Hajime on the other end. There is some shuffling as he responds. "Oh- well, kind of," definitely, then. "But... don't worry about it. Is everything okay, Hinata?"

Hmm. "I don't know if okay is really applicable to the state I'm in at the moment." Hajime means it, but he still smiles slightly when Naegi chuckles. "I'm not bad, though. It's just a bit of a sleepless night and I wanted somebody to talk to, so... you can go back to sleep, if you want, I don't..."

"No, no, I..." Naegi yawns. "It's okay. I'm awake now, anyway, so..." He pauses, then continues. "Hey, did you want to talk over the phone?"

"Huh?" Hajime furrows his brow. "I mean... I guess I don't have a preference? Why?"

"Well, there's this cafe near our school that's open twenty four hours... if you want, we could meet up there. I can text you the address." Hajime doesn't know if leaving the house right now is a good idea, but the thought of going and meeting up with Naegi is tempting. Besides, he could probably use the walk.

"Okay. Sure." He agrees. He half expects to be hit with a surge of instant regret but he isn't, which is really nice, actually.

Naegi hums, and sounds like he's smiling, which makes Hajime smile too. "Great, is half an hour from now okay?"

Hajime hums his assent and eventually ends the call, getting to his feet. As much as he doesn't particularly want to change at the moment, he figures it would probably be rude to show up in his sleep wear, so he shuffles back inside the house and into his room, pulling open a drawer and blindly selecting a graphic t-shirt and a pair of jeans. It's a t-shirt for a band his friend Ibuki is incredibly fond of, though he doesn't have a very strong opinion on them. Hajime doesn't have a very strong opinion on very many things, if he's being honest with himself.

After he's dressed he pulls on a pair of socks and his sweater once more, stepping into his sneakers and heading downstairs. He doesn't bother closing the door to his room, knowing no one else is home and his parents won't be for weeks. At the front door Hajime laces up his shoes and grabs his keys, making sure he has his phone and also his wallet before tucking his sweater tighter around his waist and slipping out of the house.

Thankfully, Naegi's text arrives quickly, and the cafe seems to be within a fifteen minute walking distance of Hajime. It's close, actually, really close, and if he wasn't already pretty sure that Naegi doesn't know where he lives, he'd suspect the lucky student did it so that Hajime could be more comfortable.

Whatever, though. Hajime doesn't mind either way.

The walk is uneventful. Hajime tries to pay attention to his surroundings but it's a bit difficult with his brain all foggy as it is. He stops about halfway through and closes his eyes, wondering if blowing through his nose while his index finger and thumb are pinching his nostrils shut would be a good idea. It would probably only pop his ears, but it's not such a bad idea, now that he's considering it.

He eventually decides not to act on the thought and keeps walking until he reaches the cafe in question, looking back and forth between his phone and the building before he enters, having confirmed to himself that it is in fact the location Naegi sent.

As soon as he steps inside he's hit with the smell of cocoa, a warm brush of air against his cheeks and fingertips. His phone feels abnormally cool so he slides it into his pocket. The lights are dimmed, with a slight yellowish tint. Soft and easy like blankets on his eyes. Hajime blinks a couple times, feels a little bit of the tension in his shoulders unravelling. The air tastes warm, somehow, like the sleepy type of slowness but in a good way.

The cafe has a couple customers around, notably a young man with silver hair and a lot of ear piercings as well as a pair of perhaps forty year olds, both asleep at a table nesr the back of the shop. Now that he's listening he can hear the faint sound of music playing on the radio; at the moment a gentle song, sung by a woman with a soft, rasping voice and accompanied by an accoustic guitar. Hajime decides he likes the place, inhaling the comfortable air inside once more through his nose and detecting notes of coffee as well.

"Hinata!" Hajime breaks out of his thoughts and sees that Naegi is here alresdy, standing at the counter. He's wearing an army green hoodie as always, a wide energetic grin on his face despite the obvious tiredness that is slowing him down a little. His brown hair, though usually unruly, is messier than usual. "You're good at getting places on time."

"You got here before me," Hajime notes, though he doesn't mind the compliment. He takes the opportunity to peer past Naegi at the menu that's hung up high on the wall. He's too wired for caffeine right now but a hot chocolate sounds appealing. He hopes it isn't too childish.

"Could I get a sixteen ounce warmed up strawberry milk, please?" Naegi asks the woman behind the counter (who has a fair share of cartilege piercings herself) with a smile, and Hajime's worries about being childish flutter away like a butterfly. The tips of its wings scrape against the inside of his stomach as it leaves him, but he smiles at the feeling. Naegi's grey eyes roll over to meet Hajime's and he smiles again. "What do you think you'll have? Do you need more time?"

"Oh, I'm ready," Hajime clears his throat. "A twelve ounce hot chocolate, please?" And meets the barista's gaze. Her eyes are green. A lovely shade, like deciduous trees in the forest with sunlight streaming through them. She nods at him, marks their orders on small pieces of yellow paper and puts them to the side. It seems she's the only one working right now. (Go figure.)

The barista gives their total and Hajime reaches for his wallet, only for Naegi to stop him. "I got it," he says with a light smile, and before Hajime can object he pushes ¥2000 across the counter, chatting lightly with the woman working about the clear night Japan has been having. The way he interacts is interesting to watch, sort of. Carefree and unapologetic. Hajime half wishes he could replicate it, but he knows coming from someone as awkward as him, it wouldn't be genuine.

After their drinks are both done and in their hands, he and Naegi walk further into the cafe to find their table. It's a bit fun to watch his underclassman's eyes light up as he sees that a small table surrounded by plush looking armchairs and pillows is available. Is it really so easy to get excited over such simple things? But Hajime finds quickly that Naegi's smile is contagious. They both take a seat in the armchairs (leather, Hajime thinks, pliable and cool underneath his body, as though they haven't been sat on in a while) and after a moment, Naegi speaks again.

"So, was it really just a sleepless night?" Naegi prompts, blowing a stray strand of chestnut brown hair out of his eyes. His smile is delicate and unassuming but it still makes Hajime feel odd, like he's being dissected. The lucky student is far more observant than he has any right being.

"Not really," Hajime admits without meaning to, wonders if it would be a good idea to rescind the word or just keep being honest. It doesn't feel bad, actually, to be genuine about it, but still... "Have you ever... dealt with depression before, Naegi?"

"Mm, yeah." Naegi nods. "Not much of a mental disorder in my case, my dad went to the hospital for a while when I was younger and when he got out all the anxiety slipped away from me and left something bad." He shrugs here, his smile still remarkably genuine. "I was on medication for a while but I stopped when I started going to Hope's Peak. Why?"

For some reason it surprises Hajime to hear this. "Really?" He knows he's not answering Naegi's question and by all means he _should _be but he's more focused on why he's surprised, and the fact that he not only assumed but assumed _incorrectly._

"You wouldn't expect it, huh?" Naegi takes a short drink of his milk. "I don't really have depression anymore, but I know it's not always a thing that comes for a while and then leaves when you take medicine and talk to a therapist. A couple people in my class have talked to me about their issues with it too. Not that that makes me an expert, or anything," he chuckles. "But I've dealt with it."

"...huh." Hajime takes a long sip of his hot chocolate to distract from the thoughts that are warring in his mind right now. "Uhm," when he's finished he lowers the mug to the table again and leans back in his seat. "To answer your question, I ask because I..." he hesitates. "Might be relapsing, and that's why I couldn't sleep." Back up. "Maybe not so much at the moment, but earlier, when I called you."

It's somewhat gratifying to see that Naegi's expression barely changes while Hajime is speaking. He just nods slowly, using a stir stick to stir his milk. "What usually helps you when you have like, episodes, and stuff?" He asks this carefully, inclining his head a bit like it might be the wrong question, but it just makes Hajime think for a moment.

"A number of things," he says slowly. "Company, I guess. Talking to someone else. Food or some kind of beverage. Being in a well lit room." Hajime pauses, because all of those qualifications are being met and he's still not feeling better. That's sort of because of the last one, though. "Physical contact," he relucantly adds.

"What kind of physical contact?" Naegi asks, then backtracks. "Sorry if I'm asking too many questions, I know that can be intense without any breaks in between or like you're being drilled for information, I just want to know how I can help right now."

As much as Naegi might be worrying about it Hajime feels validated rather than pressured and thus he allows a small smile to appear on his face when he shakes his head and responds. "Nah, you're okay. As for your question, uhm... a hand on the shoulder, I guess? I think ultimately hugs work the best, or hand holding, but that might be a bit too-" he breaks off. "-intimate."

"It's not weird unless you make it," Naegi reminds with a coy smile, a tongue poking out between his teeth. "Do you want a hug? I can hug you. Or I can hold your hand, that's okay."

"Oh, I-" it's not like it would embarrass him to do something like that with Naegi, it's just, they're not _that _close, is all, and Hajime doesn't want to make him uncomfortable. He's not really worried about the romantic connotations of either gesture (he does things like that with Chiaki and Nagito all the time and they're always blatantly platonic) so much as he's worried about making Naegi feel awkward. "I don't know if-" he bites his lip. "I mean, I guess a hug would- but I-"

Slowly, Naegi gets to his feet, steps around the table and stops in front of Hajime. "Are you okay if I hug you?" He asks, smiling gently, and Hajime finds himself nodding despite his misgivings, because Naegi is still smiling and it's soft, brotherly, almost, and low-pressure.

The smaller brunette leans forward and tucks his arms around Hajime's waist, pulling him into a hug tight enough to be cathartic. Hajime attempts to return the gesture but finds himself strangely lacking in upper arm strength. Instead he just presses his face into Naegi's hood, breathing in the smell of his detergent, which is vaguely citrus scented, and closing his eyes. He swallows down a lump in his throat and realises that one has risen, wonders arbitrarily why that is.

The hug is remarkably comforting, though. It feels like being embraced by his blankets after a long day outside, or like coming out of an episode, or allowing the rain to dance down his skin and chill him to the bone so much his insides dance and everything catches on the type of fire that means living rather than burning. It's a good hug. Naegi is soft, calm, and steady. Hajime wonders how he's never noticed it before. Wonders if perhaps he has, just subconsciously, and that's why he called.

What feels like an eternity later Naegi has pulled out of the embrace, gently tucking loose pieces of hair behind Hajime's ears, a small ghost of a smile on his face. He looks calm, comfortable, a little curious but nothing harmful, and nothing upset.

"How're you feeling?" Naegi asks, the side of his lip quirking up in a more obvious smile.

Hajime swallows. "Better. Thank-" he attempts to figure out how to speak properly before continuing. "Thank you. I- needed that."

"Yeah, you looked like you needed a hug." Naegi grins and walks back around the table to take his seat. Hajime watches as the lucky student takes another drink of his milk, puts the mug down again to reveal he has a bit of a pinkish mustache on his upper lip from the milk. "A lot of my friends are out for hugs a lot of the time," he continues, oblivious. "So I'm pretty comfortable with them. Also, I like hugs. That doesn't have to do with my friends. Hugs are just nice."

"Naegi, you-" Hajime starts to tell him about the milk mustache but then reconsiders, finding with a small tickle in his chest that it's kind of funny and maybe he'll tell the guy later. "-uhh... nevermind." He dismisses as Naegi raises an eyebrow. "Can you tell me why you chose strawberry milk rather than, like, regular milk?"

Eyes widening, Naegi actually _pouts. _"Sorry, am I being attacked for preferring the superior kind of milk?"

"Yeah, I mean, a bit- isn't that way too sweet?"

"You need to say you're sorry to my milk now."

"...I'd honestly rather just drink it." At that Naegi grabs his mug and holds it far away from Hajime, as if the older student would really drink something that obnoxiously sweet. Still, Hajime finds himself laughing, a real laugh, and Naegi laughs too, trying to be careful so that he doesn't spill his milk, which is apparently precious to him.

As Hajime takes another drink of his hot chocolate and feels the warmth spreading from his throat to the tips of his fingers and toes, he relaxes for real into the gentle atmosphere of the cafe and the light conversation with Naegi. It comes easy, and it's nice- Naegi doesn't ask him to talk about the bad stuff, and while he does ask Hajime plenty of questions, he has a lot of stories of his own to share to fill the space whenever there's a lull. It feels stabilising, and real, and Hajime is comfortable.

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact I started this in April during an episode and then finished it today because I was like "ah here's the bro content I neeeed" also bc Makoto deserves the world
> 
> I've never had strawberry milk before, I'm lactose intolerant. it has a nice aesthstic though so Makoto drinks it
> 
> :3 sorry if the style changes partway through in my defense it's been four months of non-stop writing since I began this and I've improved a lot since then. (I sure did overuse the world "really" lmao. I'm a bit scared to read some of my old works,,)
> 
> hope you enjoyed. ;333 drop a comment if you want


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